


Dangerous Liaisons

by LadyDarksbane



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-13
Updated: 2012-04-13
Packaged: 2017-11-03 14:44:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/382469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDarksbane/pseuds/LadyDarksbane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an Fem!Cousland/Vaughan Kendells pairing with a bit of Alistair thrown in. Don't hate me for the pairing of this particular interlude. I'm totally in love with his voice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dangerous Liaisons

**Disclaimer:** Dragon Age is owned by Bioware. I own nothing except Kensley's emotional instability.

 

* * *

Kensley Cousland panted heavily, dropping to her hands and knees, exhausted from the battle against the fiend masquerading as a man…the man who'd become the destroyer of her perfect life on one fateful night. The clang of swords impacting armor as well as the sizzle of ozone as lightning erupted from the end of a mage's staff filled the small room, deafening the cries of the dying. Yet as Kensley crawled to the broken body of Rendon Howe, she could feel no remorse for what she had done.

_Vengeance…_

That word had lingered on her dying father's lips; had scarred her soul as she listened to the death rattle in his chest.

_Blood can only be repaid in blood._

Kensley straddled Howe's body, reaching for a discarded dagger. She raised it above her head, plunging it into his chest over and over again until her red hair and white leather armor were coated thickly with the Arl's blood. She knew she had to have looked a sight to her companions, but she was beyond caring what any of them thought.

Gentle hands coaxed her away from the bloodbath she created. She felt herself being sheltered within a pair of strong loving arms as a soothing voice struggled to be heard over the pounding rage in her ears. She fought against the bonds that held her, twisting away, slashing recklessly with the dagger.

A not so manly cry of pain followed an erratic shriek, "She…Princess Stabbity has lost her sodding mind!"

Kensley staggered about, not seeing that she'd injured the man she loved. With a shriek of her own, she collapsed back to her hands and knees, crawling away from the carnage that littered the stone floor of the dungeon. Soon she found herself in a narrow hallway with prison cells each side.

Fiercely gripping iron bars, she pulled herself to her feet, unleashing a scream of frustration before slamming her family's shield repeatedly against the stone wall of the room. When the straps that held it to her arm broke, it clattered to her feet. Kensley let out a sob. Every inch of her body ached. Her shoulder painfully throbbed from the abuse she'd heaped upon herself. For months she'd convinced herself that ridding the country of Howe's evil would make it all better. Yet satisfaction of his death tasted bitter, like ashes in her mouth. His death had not brought back her beloved mother and father. That revelation made Kensley angrier. It pained her heart even further. There was nothing to assuage her grief.

The sound of a clearing throat brought her back to reality. Her brilliant green eyes met sharply with the concerned honeyed amber orbs belonging to her lover and fellow Grey Warden, but Kensley couldn't bear to face him. "Sod it all. Get out," she screamed. "Leave me alone!"

"Kensley," his voice grated on her nerves as it came across sounding as whiny as ever. Pain and disbelief washed over Alistair's face. He'd never seen Kensley lose it like this. She was always calm, collected and driven. She had kept their little ragtag group of misfits going, no matter how hopeless and monumental their task had seemed. Torn between the desire to comfort his love and the fierceness of her command, Alistair backed away from Kensley, led away by the soft lilting voice and soothing hands of Leliana.

"So be it," Kensley whispered angrily. Let the Orlesian _whore_ soothe his hurts. Kensley needed a man _strong_ enough and _smart_ enough to fight his way through her pain to get to the heart of the matter. She needed someone who'd see through all her bravado and allow her to be the woman she'd always dreamed of being. Kensley was tired of bolstering Alistair's confidence, had grown weary of giving so much without receiving the same in return. A tiny voice deep within chastised her for her uncharitable thoughts of the man who'd been the light of her life ever since they'd begun this mad journey to simultaneously defeat the threat of the Blight as well as Teryn Loghain. Kensley squelched it, " _ **So be it**_ ," She spoke louder, clearer.

Turning, she glanced at the cells before her. Her breath caught in her throat as her gaze collided with that of a…handsome…green eyed man with tawny brown hair. He looked so familiar to her and yet it was as if she was seeing…truly seeing…him for the first time. With their eyes locked, she stepped nearer to his cell, feeling the draw of his stare.

Kensley knew she must look a fright; her hair dripping, her usually pristine armor stained with Rendon Howe's blood. Unable to resist the siren's call of the man's virulent gaze, she pressed herself against the bars of his cell then reached a hand towards him. "I know you." she spoke softly, "Your face…so familiar."

"I'm the Arl of Denerim. I demand you release me, heathen," he snarled, batting aside her blood stained hand. Kensley hissed as pain zinged her tormented shoulder. She whimpered before withdrawing her arm, "Before I have you flayed."

"Urien died at Ostagar," she replied softly. "That must make you his son, Vaughan."

His gaze narrowed while he drank in the sight of the woman before him. Her voice, sultry and refined, caused him to pause momentarily. His gaze flicked past her to the discarded shield resting against an adjacent cell door. Recognition flared within him as he recalled the name her companion had spoken. "You're a Cousland, one of Howe's… victims." Vaughan's lips curled in a sneer.

"Yes, I'm Teyrn Cousland's daughter, Kensley. I remember meeting you six years ago here in Denerim. There was a soiree at the palace to honor the marriage of Cailan and Anora," she replied. "What happened here? Why are you in your own…dungeon?" Kensley glanced around, appalled by the horror and squalor of this place. Highever Castle had dungeons as well, but they had never felt as _wrong_ as these did.

Vaughan eyed her up and down, disliking the feelings that assailed him as he gazed into her deep green eyes. Feelings of want…want of something more than a tumble…feelings of need and desire… for more than all things carnal. He curled his lips disdainfully. A woman… _a woman_ …of worth stood before, his very fate held securely in her hands. No woman should have that much power over a man. The fact that she was the last of the Cousland's explained much, though. He looked at her and could swear he saw Bryce Cousland staring back. Yet Kensley was more pleasing to behold. "Too many of our troops were lost at Ostagar. When the riots started, Howe came with men to reinforce the garrison here. Or that's what he claimed. As soon as I let him into the palace, he threw me in here. 'One more victim of the elven uprising,' he said. Let me out, dear lady. I'll do anything."

Kensley smiled widely, looking like the cat that ate the canary. At first she ignored his plea. "You'll be pleased to know that Howe is dead. Your arling is restored to you. I'll gladly give you that, especially since we have both suffered at that viper's hands. You should feel fortunate that Howe didn't murder you like he did my family." She backed away, inserting the key in the lock of his cell. As it clicked, she sighed wistfully. "You need not do anything for me, Vaughan, except lend me your voice at the Landsmeet. Help me speak out against Loghain and I will be forever in your debt. We are kindred now, victims of circumstances not of our making."

A smarmy look graced the face of the imprisoned man. He rubbed his hands together, eyeing her hungrily, "Of course! Anything for you, just let me out!" Vaughan's lips twisted into a caricature of a smile. The lock clicked then the door swung open. Vaughan dashed out of the cell, slamming the door shut behind him. He reached for Kensley, unceremoniously hauling her into his arms before he pressed her against the bars. "Don't make a sound. Be a good little bitch and I'll leave you relatively unharmed."

"I love a forceful man, Vaughan, but this isn't necessary," Kensley murmured in his ear as her legs wrapped around his waist. She could feel his hands tearing at the buckles that held her white leather together; could feel the heat of his body searing her through both layers of their clothing.

Their coupling was fast, furious; beholding the intensity she'd always craved in her men. His thrusts pummeled her, slamming her against the iron bars. Kensley reveled in the brutality, raking her nails down Vaughan's linen clad back. She nipped at his neck, ears, and the meat of his shoulder. She took everything he had to give then demanded more. When their passions were spent, Vaughan released her. "I needed that," was all he said as he righted his clothing then walked away with nary a glance backward.

Kensley slumped against the bars, willing her trembling legs to hold her upright. In her thoughts, she echoed Vaughan's words. She had needed something that fierce as well. She grinned, knowing she had gotten the best of the Arl of Denerim.

* * *

The door to the Landsmeet Chamber stood before them. Kensley reached for the handle then glanced over at Alistair. He nodded to her. Kensley threw it open, boldly marching through the throng of assembled nobles until she came face to face with Teyrn Loghain. Her gaze remained solely fixed on Loghain while Eamon's voice commanded the attention of the Banns. "My lords and ladies of the Landsmeet, Teyrn Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions, out of fear! _**He**_ placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice everything good about our nation to save it?"

Grumblings throughout the gathered lords followed Eamon's impassioned speech only to be brought up short by Loghain's mocking applaud. "A fine performance, Eamon, but no one here is taken in by it. You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne and every soul here knows it. The better question is, 'Who will pull the strings?' Ah! And here we have the puppeteer… as bold and brazen as she pleases."

Kensley's eyes narrowed at Loghain's contemptuous smearing of Eamon and Alistair. She bit her tongue for the moment, waiting for the right moment to speak, waiting for her anger to dissipate, waiting for a clear frame of mind to prevail.

Loghain gestured wildly as the filth of his words spewed forth from his lips. "Tell us, Warden: How _**will**_ the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince? What did they offer you? How much is the price of Ferelden honor now?"

Kensley's eyes flashed murderously. "You are one to speak of honor, a man so mired in the past that he wiped away any chance of a future for your beloved Ferelden. You have forsaken yours. After all, _**I**_ am not the one who betrayed Ferelden. _**I**_ am not the one left our King to die…to face that horde alone."

Arl Bryland voice rang clearly above the hubbub of shocked murmurs, "Some of us are curious, Loghain, about precisely what happened at Ostagar."

Then Bann Ceorlic rudely interrupted, "Do continue, Warden. The Landsmeet hungers to hear the tactical analysis of Ostagar from a spoiled child."

"A spoiled child, am I, Ceorlic," Kensley scoffed at him. "I will have you know that my father, the late Teyrn Cousland, taught me the ins and outs of battle as well as diplomacy. It was my father that Cailan entrusted in his dealings with Orlais. Our beloved King Cailan and Empress Celene had put aside the arguments of the past and came to an agreement concerning the threat of the darkspawn. Empress Celene was merely waiting for a response from Cailan. I have proof of these dealings within these documents recovered from the royal arms chest at Ostagar. We as Ferelden's no longer have to fear Orlais. The Blight is the true threat." She threw the papers she had nestled securely around the newly mended straps of her family's royal shield at Loghain's feet, watching as he swiped them up.

"There are enough refugees in my bannorn to make the Warden's claims abundantly clear," Bann Alfstanna called out.

"We've been treated to many stories of darkspawn in the past few weeks, but we still have no evidence this is a true Blight," Ceorlic piped up followed by the growl of Arl Wulff's gravelly voice, "If it's a story, it's a true one. The south is fallen, Loghain! Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?"

"How fortunate you've been in the field with Loghain, Ceorlic, for had you been in Lothering, in your bannorn, you would've already been wiped off the map," Kensley retorted. "Lothering fell to the darkspawn horde. There is nothing left there. I have seen it with my own eyes. Blackened putrid despoilment as far as the eye can see…and that is only the beginning if we continue to ignore their threat."

"The Blight is indeed real, Wulff. But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it? They claim that they alone can end the Blight, yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them four legions of chevaliers. And once we open our borders to the Chevaliers, can we really expect them to simply return from whence they came? You led our king to his death with your grandiose tales of griffons flying into battle. Warden, Cailan was Maric's son. Had there been _**any**_ chance of reaching him at Ostagar, I would have fought to my last breath to save him. But was I to sacrifice thousands of other lives when I saw that hope was gone? You Grey Wardens with your stories of valor… stories of heroic single-combat with archdemons… you made Cailan believe war was an easy matter of riding out in his new armor and collecting a victory that sat ripe and waiting for him. You goaded him into making that charge! He _**believed**_ the tales, Warden! He thought that your handful of men would turn the tide for him, strategy and consequences be hanged! So I ask you again, what would you have me do? Cailan's was not the only life in my hands. Should I have sacrificed the entire army for his mistake? Do not imagine you can shame me with Cailan's death. He was Maric's son. My king. No one regrets his loss more than I do."

"You speak as if it was I who personally is to blame for Cailan's actions at Ostagar. Yet I have witnesses who can speak against those claims. I spoke to you, requested an audience with you, that fateful day… the day of my arrival in Ostagar. I wanted to reach out to the great Teyrn Loghain, a teyrn like my deceased father, a hero in my eyes. Yet upon that meeting, I found myself sorely disappointed. There before me stood the shadow of the great general my father had always spoken so highly of. We spoke of the fall of Highever. I knew by the tone of your voice that you knew more than you let on. All along you were in cahoots with that snake masquerading as a man. All along you turned a blind eye to the faults of the man you made the Arl of Denerim and Teyrn of Highever. You turned a blind eye to fact he was murdering, imprisoning and torturing innocents to cover up the truth of your actions at Ostagar."

"The Warden speaks truly! My son was taken under cover of night. The things done to him... some of them are beyond any healer's skill," Bann Sighard interjected furiously.

"When I rescued Bann Sighard's son, Oswyn, from Howe's torture chamber, he told me a curious tale of his wet nurse's son, who had been at Ostagar. Oswyn claimed his friend told him that his unit was ordered to turn their backs on Cailan at Ostagar... _**before**_ the darkspawn overwhelmed him just shortly after the beacon that Loghain was supposed to respond to was lit. The next day, Oswyn's friend disappeared. When Oswyn went to search for his friend, he was met with the offer of a poisoned chalice and therefore, ending up at the mercy of Howe."

"Howe was responsible for himself. He will answer to the Maker for any wrongs committed in this life. As must we all. But you know that. You were the one who murdered him."

"Silence!" Kensley exclaimed as she brought her hand up, backhanding Loghain across the face to punctuate her fervent command. "How dare you defend that snake in the grass after he murdered Teyrn and Teyrna Cousland, my parents, in their home! How dare you make light of my father's dying wish for vengeance. My father lay dying in a pool of his own blood and beseeched the Warden Commander of Ferelden to take his wife and daughter to safety. I am a Cousland. We always do our duty. My duty was to visit vengeance upon Howe. But no more of my grievances against the man.

"There are other's here who has suffered at the hands of Howe's treachery. Tell me, Loghain, how do you justify naming Rendon Howe the Arl of Denerim while Arl Urien's son still lives. I found Vaughan Kendells locked away in the dungeons of his own estate. Locked away. Left to rot." Kensley turned her gaze to Vaughan momentarily pointing him out to the assemblage. "He is testament to your crimes."

"Too many of my father's troops were lost at Ostagar. When the riots started, Howe came with men to reinforce the garrison here. Or that's what he claimed. As soon as I let him into the palace, he threw me into my own dungeon. 'One more victim of the elven uprising,' Howe stated," Vaughan spoke up, repeating what he had told Kensley previously. "The Warden released me."

"Whatever Howe may have done, he should have been brought before the seneschal. There is no justice in butchering a man in his home." Loghain Mac Tir replied dismissively.

"No? Then why did you send a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon?" Kensley retorted smugly. She had him…had him right where she wanted him.

"I assure you, Warden, if I were going to send someone, it would be my own soldiers. I would not trust to the discretion of an apostate."

"Indeed? My brother tells a very different tale. He says you snatched a blood mage from the Chantry's justice. Coincidence?" Bann Alfstanna cocked an eyebrow.

It was then that Denerim's Grand Cleric chose to lend her voice. "Do not think the Chantry will overlook this, Teyrn Loghain. Interference in a templar's sacred duties is an offense against the Maker."

Kensley cleared her throat. "Tell me, is there justice in selling elves to Tevinter? Snatching them from the Alienage under the ruse of Tevinter mages curing the plague that you and Howe unleashed there." The slaver documents implicating the Teyrn joined Cailan's secret correspondence at his feet.

A cry of disbelief erupted from Bann Sighard. "Selling elves? Explain this, Loghain. Do you place no other value on life besides the gold who can gain from it?"

"This is war. Did you believe it would be like the old tales: knights with pennants flying over battlefields where all outcomes are decided simply and with honor? War is cruel. Every soul who fought alongside Maric knows this. And in it, there are no such things as innocents, only the living and the dead, and the degrees of guilt both bear. Sacrifices were made. If they were too great, the Maker will judge me for it. But enough of this. I have a question for you, Warden: What have you done with my daughter?" The General paced back and forth, still grandstanding while the Grey Warden stood her ground.

"What have I done? I've protected her from you. It's what We Grey Wardens do, protect the innocent from threats of tyranny."

"You took my daughter-our queen-by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?"

The room hushed, a silence so deafening Kensley could have sworn she could hear a pin drop, as Anora gracefully strolled into the chamber. "I believe I can speak for myself. Lords and ladies of Ferelden, hear me. My father is no longer the man you know. This man is not the hero of River Dane. This man turned his troops aside and refused to protect your king as he fought bravely against the darkspawn. This man seized Cailan's throne before his body was cold and locked me away so I could not reveal his treachery. I would have already been killed, if not for Kensley Cousland."

"Anora speaks the truth," Kensley added, feeling in her gut that she'd truly made the right decision in trusting the queen.

Loghain let out a heavy sigh, "So the Warden's influence has poisoned even your mind, Anora? I wanted to protect you from this. My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Fereldans have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself."

Kensley held her tongue. She didn't know what else she could say to persuade the Landsmeet to side against Loghain. She just hoped all the evidence she'd brought forth against the Teyrn bore fruit. She found her faith reaffirmed as one by one the nobles spoke up. Alfstanna, Bryland, Sighard, Vaughan, Wulff and two other nobles whose names she couldn't rightly remember all sided with the Grey Wardens. Only Bann Ceorlic had spoken for Loghain. Pride surged through her. "The Landsmeet is against you, Loghain. Step down gracefully."

Incensed, Loghain glared at her before turning his attention to the nobles who'd allied themselves with the upstart Cousland brat. "Traitors! Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives? You fought with us once, Eamon. You cared about this land once before you got too old and fat and content to even see what you risk. None of you deserve a say in what happens here! None of you have spilled blood for this land the way I have! How dare you judge me!"

Members of Loghain's guard spilled into the Landsmeet chamber. Kensley shook her head before speaking. "Call off your men and we'll settle this honorably."

"Then let us end this. I suppose we both knew it would come to this." His voice calmed, his demeanor resigned. "When we first met at Ostagar, I would never have thought so. But Ostagar seems like it happened in another lifetime, to someone else. A man is made by the quality of his enemies. Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me. Enough. Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Bann Alfstanna nodded at the pair before her. Her voice took on a formal tone, "It shall be fought according to tradition: a test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled will abide by the outcome."

"Will you face me yourself, or have you a champion?" Loghain challenged.

"Of course I'll fight this duel myself. You don't stand a chance, old man. I'm younger, quicker and I fear death not." Kensley accepted as she strapped her family's battered shield to her arm.

"It is you or me the men will follow. So let us fight for it. Prepare yourself."

Kensley watched as Loghain drew his sword. They circled each other while the nobles cleared out of the way. Drawing her family's sword from the scabbard at her hip, she thanked the Maker for the enchantments she'd had Sandal Feddic weave onto it. For all her bravado, the Teyrn remained a warrior of legend. She knew she'd need every advantage she could get. The year which had passed since Ostagar, the year spent fighting darkspawn, werewolves, abominations and insane cultists, had honed the battle skills she'd learned from her father.

She unleashed her war cry, rallying her courage, then brought her shield up to defend herself from Loghain's first brutal strike. Then with a shield bash firming smashing into Loghain's chest, she whirled her blade about in an all out assault, striking him viciously until the stain of blood coated the weapon.

First blood had been drawn. A weak point in the General's gleaming silverite armor had been located and exploited. Startled gasps echoed through the crowd. Kensley took a hard hit to her upper chest and shoulder, snarling through the pain as her heavy Warden Commander armor absorbed the brunt of the blow. She could feel her own blood flowing from the wound. She stumbled but recovered quickly, pummeling him relentlessly. Her blur of her blade complimented the steps in her dance of death, a symphonic ballet of precision striking and exquisite beauty.

Soon the General of renown found himself panting heavily, dropping to his knees before her. "I underestimated you, Warden. I thought you were like Cailan, a child wanting to play at war. There's a strength in you that I haven't seen since Maric died. I yield."

Kensley's smug laugh of satisfaction filled the chamber. She circled him, halting directly behind him. As he made a motion to turn, she straddled his back and gripped a hank of his hair, yanking his head back to expose his unguarded neck. Drawing a special dagger, one coated with Crow poison, gifted from Zevran, she quickly and efficiently slit his throat before throwing his body to the floor.

Anora cried aloud as she tearfully covered the body of her fallen father. Kensley ignored her, blocking out the stunned or outraged gasps and grumbles from the assembled nobles. She leveled an angry glare upon Eamon, silencing the older Arl as she dashed to the throne, seizing the crown which sat upon a silken pillow. She knew this wasn't the time or place for a formal coronation, but nevertheless it was symbolic as a new age of sorts was ushered in.

Returning to Alistair, Kensley went down on bended knee before him and Anora as well. "Your Majesty, it does me great honor as victor of the Landsmeet to bestow this upon you. I, Kensley Cousland, following in the footsteps of my esteemed father, grant you both the throne of Ferelden, provided you hold to the oaths you spoke to me, marrying in order to rule jointly."

"We do!" Anora proclaimed loudly. "I believe this is what King Maric wanted, to see his blood tied to my father's to begin a new line of Fereldan kings."

Kensley placed Alistair's crown on his head, "The Landsmeet awaits you to address them, my king."

With a nod to Kensley as well as Anora, Alistair marched forth. "I-I did swear an oath. What I mean is, I'm-I'm all for founding a new line of kings, but... well, there's the Blight..."

Kensley groaned, nudging Alistair before hissing at Anora to save the floundering new king. "What the king is trying to say, my lords and ladies, is that he will be taking the field with his fellow Grey Warden to do battle with the archdemon. Until then I will remain in Denerim and rule in my husband's absence, as I did for Cailan, but I trust Alistair shall reach a more heroic ending." Anora's smile gleamed brightly, though Kensley could see the pearl of anger glittering in the queen's big blue eyes. "As queen, I appoint Kensley Cousland as the general and leader of our armies. Gather your forces and await her command. On the morrow, we shall begin our struggle against the greatest threat Ferelden has ever faced. And we shall triumph over it, for we _**are**_ Fereldan!"

A huge roar of applause erupted through the Landsmeet chamber. The future was secure and their eyes were set firmly on defeating the greatest threat to their nation. Kensley sighed pensively as a ripple of victory surged through her. It was almost as if she could feel her father's pride for her shining through her. He would have been so proud of "his fierce girl."

* * *

The nobles had cleared out, leaving behind an empty chamber. Kensley strolled through it, mulling over what had happened in her head. She knew Alistair and Anora had accompanied Eamon back to the elder Arl's estate. She had promised Alistair she'd be along shortly. There was a matter of importance she truly needed to discuss with him. She couldn't imagine the kind of future they could have together. So lost in her thoughts as she gazed unseeingly at the throne, Kensley didn't hear the footfall on the stone floor behind her nor did she notice the approaching form until it settled in behind her, touching her shoulder. She let out a scared shriek before rounding to see who'd touched her. Part of her had expected it to be Zevran, but to her surprise and delight, her eyes collided with those of Vaughan Kendells.

"You startled me, my lord," Kensley smiled at him brightly. It pleased her that _he_ had sought _her_ out. She hadn't seen him since she'd freed him. Being a teyrn's daughter, she knew it was he who should greet her with the formality of 'my lady', but Kensley figured a man like Vaughan would appreciate her appearing the lesser.

A self-satisfied smile crossed his face. Kensley knew she had been right, knew she'd have him eating out of her hand in no time. "No need to stand on ceremony, Kensley," he replied smugly before he reached for her hand. "I have need of your presence at my home. There is a matter of personal security I wish to speak to you about. You simply must attend me."

 _Oh, he has no real clue_ _ **who**_ _is really in charge_ , she mused to herself. "I would be _delighted_ , Vaughan."

He held out his arm to her, "Shall we?"

It was a short stroll from the palace to Vaughan's estate. He immediately escorted her to the master bedroom, the one which had been his father's. "You have no need of that bulky armor of yours. Remove it and be quick about it," he demanded.

"I like a forceful man," Kensley purred, making haste unbuckling the various straps which held her armor together. She threw the discarded pieces to the stone floor until she stood before him in the royal blue undertunic and form fitting breeches.

"Is that why you've set yourself up as Maric's bastard's lover? I know all about you, Lady Cousland." The fiendish grin which graced his lips would surely put any demon to shame. "With your background, though, I'm surprised you didn't set yourself as queen. A rather curious question, that is."

Her eyes flashed at Vaughan's words. He knew nothing of the Wardens, obviously. Alistair would need an heir, but with the taint in both of them, conceiving said heir was next to impossible, "Alistair 'tis not my lover any longer. 'Twas an agreement I made with Anora. She wouldn't marry Alistair with me still in the picture. Let's not speak of such matters when we have so many other delightful things we could be doing."

Fiercely gathering her in his arms, Vaughan kissed her. Words failed under the onslaught of Vaughan's lips, tongue, and teeth. Kensley let him lead her to the bed, where she wrapped her arms around him. Her tongue tangled with his and stroked against the roof of his mouth.

He groaned, and she rubbed against his body, needing more contact with his heated form. His hand rose to cup her breast while his thumb flicked across her nipple, hardening it instantly. She whimpered against his lips, and he pressed her back into the mattress, covering her with his weight.

Vaughan stopped kissing her and sat up. She whimpered at the loss of pleasure. He took her face in his hands, "Strip." Kensley obeyed immediately. She opened her eyes and met his startlingly emerald gaze. She desperately needed to feel Vaughan's passion. She refused to let herself think of anything else as she grabbed hold of him, pulled him back to her, crushing his mouth with hers.

He groaned, grinding his hips against hers as her hands slid over his shoulders and her nails raked his back. Vaughan tasted like heat and security and raw pleasure. She couldn't get enough of him. His fingertips skimmed over her soft flesh. The warmth of him felt wickedly sensual against her naked skin. He grasped both of her nipples, squeezing and tugging simultaneously. Her back bowed; Kensley squealed. Bolts of pleasure shot straight down to her pussy.

Vaughan then immediately replaced one of his hands with his mouth. The rasp of his tongue against her hardened flesh made her whimper. When he scraped her nipple with his teeth, starbursts of pleasure exploded in her head. Her hands slid down his naked back until she encountered the waist of his pants. She slipped her hands underneath, reveling in the feel of his warm, hard buttocks. She shoved frantically, trying to push them down. He quickly removed them, making himself as gloriously naked as she.

Kensley couldn't resist, reaching between them to touch his cock. The deliciously hard column of flesh was so thick she could barely get her hand around it. Maker, she longed to feel him stuffed inside her once more. She couldn't wait.

"Fuck me, Vaughan." She gasped as she stroked him from cockhead to balls. "Fuck me now."

He flashed a smile that any demon would envy. "You're not hot enough yet."

Kensley cursed, protesting, "Sod it all! If I get any hotter, I'll explode."

He pulled back, forcing her to let his thick shaft go if she didn't want to hurt him. Then he gripped her wrists and stretched them over her head. Hot cream slipped from her body to dampen the sheets. She had always loved it when her lovers she'd had before Alistair held her down, but she felt like asking for it ruined her 'fierce girl' image.

Suddenly, he let go, gripping her behind the knees and shoving her legs wide. His gaze riveted on her pussy. She intended to reach for him, to guide his hot mouth right where she wanted it, but her arms wouldn't move. What the sodding hell?

"I've had you restrained with magic," he murmured, diabolically.

"What?"

"You heard me. Magical energy employed to hold you down," Vaughan chuckled lasciviously.

Instinct took over; Kensley struggled against her invisible bonds. Her body bucked, she tried to jerk her arms down to no avail. She would have sworn shackles enclosed her wrists, locking them to the bed.

Vaughan grasped her hips and forced them back to the bed, "Now to have some fun."

He traced a path through the wetness that soaked her whole pussy and then pushed two fingers inside her, parting her easily. She moaned and ceased her struggles.

His hot breath fanned against her wet lips. "You like being at my mercy, don't you?"

"Y-" Kensley couldn't even get out the single word, because Vaughan swiped his tongue along the path his fingers had taken. When he sucked her clit into his mouth, she screamed.

The intensity of the pleasure made it feel like delicious pain, "Mmmm... Now you're hot enough to explode." Vaughan licked her again and then set to devouring her, using lips, tongue, and teeth in a way that made Kensley more certain than ever that he was a desire demon in disguise. Not even the magical restraints were as surprising as a man who could worship her body as if she were Andraste reborn.

She desperately wanted to fist her hands in his hair and hold him in place. And yet, being totally under his control inflamed her. It gave her license to simply enjoy every lick and bite. She felt her orgasm gathering. She reached for it, arching her hips up; thrusting her pussy at Vaughan's warm, inviting lips. But just as she tensed to go over the edge, he released her and sat back on his heels, "Bastard!"

Vaughan laughed. "It will only be better for the wait."

"Damn it, Vaughan, I don't want to wait."

He came over her, bracing himself on his arms. His cockhead brushed her swollen clit, "Neither do I."

She moaned and lifted her hips, trying to force him into her. "Please." She was beyond caring how much she begged. She had to have him, or she would die. He entered in one long thrust. She gasped and fought her bonds once more. He flashed his evil smile, and his eyes flashed with emerald sparks. Then he pulled out, inch by agonizing inch, slower than she would have thought possible.

"Faster," The words came out as a growl.

"You're under my control. Remember?"

Her traitorous body clenched as his words made her want him all the more. She closed her eyes and tried to distance herself from the pounding need between her legs, but as he held himself poised at the entrance to her body all she could think about was the need to be filled.

"Tell me what you desire, _whore_."

"Sod off."

"Then you'll wait for it." Why did he insist on humiliating her, degrading her? He smiled again, flexed his cock, making her bite her lip to hold her moan in. Then she felt something hot and satiny slide against her nether lips. The feeling made her shiver. She glared at Vaughan. "Please?"

He surged into her, filling her with a quick brutal thrust. She screamed, arching spasmodically, her head falling back, his invasion stoking the whirlwind of pleasure he stirred in her. When he started to pull out with agonizing slowness again, she thrust her hips up, forcing him to sink into her again, "More, damn it. Give me more."

He wrapped his hands around her hips and pinned them to the bed. "I'm in control, not you." Over and over Vaughan thrust deep and then withdrew, inch by inch, as if caressing her insides. She felt wild, crazed. She'd completely lost control of her body's response. She tried to thrust against him, but he held her tight to the mattress. She struggled at the magic binding her arms, thinking if she got him hot enough, he might be unable to hold her. But he remained calm and cool, never faltering in his rhythm.

Sod it all! Why wasn't he as frantic as she was? She was coming apart, another piece coming unglued with every thrust. She felt the wildness in him. He'd locked it away, but she knew it was there. If only she could figure out how to release it. He'd be consumed by the storm, and she'd get the hard, fast fucking she needed.

"Vaughan, I want it rough. I want to feel your hard, thick cock slamming against me."

He groaned, and she smiled. "You want it, too. I feel it in you." He tensed, but he didn't increase his pace.

"Damn it! Fuck me, Vaughan. Really fuck me."

He snarled. "No, you'll take it like I want you to."

She wanted to cry. Her body screamed for release. "I need to cum, please. I need it hard."

"No, you don't. You're on the edge right now."

"I -" She realized he was right. She hung on the edge, ready to fall, but she didn't want it to end like this, she wanted him as frantic as she was, "Maker's mercy, Vaughan. Please. I need it. Give me what I need."

His pace increased slightly, just enough to end her torture, but not enough to be the rough animal fuck she begged for. Kensley couldn't hold back anymore. Her clit tightened, her body convulsed. Shock waves of pleasure radiated all the way to her toes.

Vaughan released her hips and pulled out of her. She whimpered, wanting more even as she lay exhausted from her climax. He took his cock in his hand, jacking it furiously. She gasped. Dear Maker, he was going to come all over her. The thought sent heat spiraling through her body, making her want him all over again. She watched, transfixed. His eyes fell shut and his face shuddered. Then his entire body stiffened, and hot, creamy cum splashed against her breasts and belly. "Now get out, _whore_." Kensley felt the magic dissipating, releasing her from his hold. She didn't wait to be told a second time.


End file.
